


Barry Was Different

by Creekei



Category: Glass (2019), Split (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Coffee Shops, F/M, First Meetings, Gloves, Good Taste, Guilty Pleasures, James McAvoy's Character, Kinky, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sensuality, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28150683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creekei/pseuds/Creekei
Summary: Heroine meets Barry and he has a certain style in every area of life.
Relationships: Barry (Split)/Original Character(s), Barry (Split)/Original Female Character(s), Barry (Split)/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	Barry Was Different

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not have a thing for Barry...

He was so different from everybody else she had.

Met. That is. From everybody else she had  _ met _ . But truth be told, he was different from the ones she  _ had _ , too. As in sexually different.

He… he was free. Of any preconceptions, any kind of rules that tell you how to behave, how to dress, how to speak, how to think. Sometimes he was like a bird, tilting his head to the side and chattering, chirping about fashion and urban gossip and the latest celebrity news of LA. Other times he was focused and serious, concentrating hard on his drawing or reading, or the latest humanitarian cause he picked to fight for. He could be such an enthusiastic idealist… But on other occasions, he was depressed and impulsive. But always, always honest, energetic, whole-hearted and with a soul that cared for everybody. 

His voice was just a bit high; his walk and gestures a bit too animated, airy; his laughter was that of a child, or a woman, rather: lovely, seductive but on purpose. Should he had long, wavy hair, he could easily fool people for mistaking him with a woman, she thought.

But he didn’t want that, not at all. He had lots of unconventional thoughts and habits but that was never one of them. What’s more… in certain situations he was much more of a man than any other she ever met.

Like that one day they’ve met. She thought she’d never forget it. It was a Saturday afternoon and that forest green sweater... she was looking for one of that kind for many seasons now - and then he just took it in front of her nose.

But then he made up for that: he invited her for coffee. And that afternoon seemed never ending. 

She was in awe of his view of the world. His every thought fell out of his mouth right when it was born - they had that in common. But he would never reconsider anything he said for the sake of others. He was always sure and immovable, he had a very manly confidence that shone through the image of the chattery fashion designer.

So they talked politics, books, music (he was a true Taylor Swift fan) and the next thing she knew was that the grey October sky turned black and starry above them.

Barry - that was his name - drank up the bottom of his coffee and smacked. 

  * I just looove arabica. The taste is so much fuller. 



When he talked, the entirety of his face was in motion. Every muscle jumped, stretched, relaxed, eyes glistening, teeth showing up and disappearing. 

And the lips… O, those lips. To even watch them move.

And with those lips, he invited her up to his flat.

It all seemed so obvious. He made it so effortlessly clear that he wants to have sex with her; he also made it amazingly easy for her to agree. She would have tried to go for that certain woman's dignity but he huffed and hushed with his palm, making it clear what he thinks of these ancient, rubbish games between two people of healthy desires. 

  * I just _need_ to pleasure you tonight. And who would you be to say no to that? - he smirked and flirted shamelessly - Well. I mean. So what do you say? I am a gentleman, I leave it to a woman to make her own choices.



Of course she went with him. And oh, was it the best decision of her life.

He was a shameless lover. One that was not limited by any boundaries. He loved her in ways no man did before. Lavishly, impulsively, uncontrollably. He pressed her against the hallway closet of his tiny, artistic flat; he tied her wrists to the cool iron bedstead and sucked purple stains on her breasts; he took her hand onto his cock and showed her how he liked being taken care of, with head thrown back and throat bulging.

She lost track of time with him. She couldn’t tell when she ate last, when she bathed last. The latter, she did though - Barry took her to the shower and kneeled between her spreaded legs “to clean her”. Instead, he took the shower head in one hand and got her off with it, with his cock in his other hand, wanking it off into the running water.

Sometimes, he had his own wishes. He laid back on the bed naked, with only a towel on his waist, put an arm under his head and ran a finger down his side. He threw her a one sided look.

  * Come. Come here.



She walked there mesmerized.

  * Touch me.



She made an uncertain move towards his torso but he caught her wrist.

  * Nononono. With _this._



And he opened his nightstand drawer and lifted a black  _ feather _ . She took it, confused - but he gave her an encouraging look.

  * Yes my love. Be gentle. Be kind and generous to me.



And so she was.

The next day (or was it two days later?) she went home in a blur. There was work, family, friends... but her head (and body) was definitely elsewhere.

But then she received his message.

  * I’m thinking of you, gorgeous. Meet me tonight.



That night was about him again. He was in an unusually horny and sensitive mood; some newspapers criticised his latest creation, so he needed attention, reaffirmation. Once again, he laid back on the bed and she was going for the feather but this time he forbade her to use anything else than her own body.

  * Be creative, darlin. I’m trusting you. But I don’t want a cell of my body left unloved.



So she started with a deep, wet kiss to get them in the mood and while he was occupied with her tongue, she straddled him and sucked her way down on his neck, from under his ear right till his shoulder. Her hands rubbed the crispy trimmed hair up and forth on his head and her breasts massaged his chest as she wantonly pressed herself onto him, circling with her body. Then she started crawling lower and lower, descended on him, rubbing and stroking his body with her own. When she arrived at his cock, she took his left leg in between hers so that he could feel her wetness rubbing against his shin while she was giving him the most profound and refined blowjob she knew. Varying her pace, tilting her head in every direction, using her tongue on top and below, sucking harder at the end and keeping steady at the bottom.

Barry loved it. He was so overwhelmingly limitless in expressing his feelings. He moaned sensually, once again in a way that could beat a woman, then his throat rattled and grunted as he lifted his head and instructed her.

But when he eventually came two or three times, with his seed spurting into her mouth, on his stomach or just simply into the blanket, it was always his utmost priority to grant her just the same care.

  * This bed is boring. But there's room on the floor…



He said once, pursing his lips and flashing his eyes so she laid down onto the lush carpet at the bottom of the bed, he tied her ankles to the legs of the bed and kneeled to the small space in between them. She took the table above her head in her desperate grip as he bowed and licked her lusciously, strongly as if he wanted to swallow her in one. And there was just no way to close her legs. Climax was inevitable within minutes. 

And then there were his gloves. On occasions, they were the only things he had on and thus the touch of his hand varied on her skin as he ran it down on her spine: warm and soft flesh, cool and rusty fabric, then flesh, then fabric again… And they oh so nicely emphasized his fingers,  _ fingers _ , one of the best body parts of a man, or so she thought. So when he had gloves on, she immediately went for his fingers, placed them delicately into her mouth, one by one she wrapped them in her saliva then sucked on them sensuously, looking right into his blazing eyes. 

Sometimes she wondered where all this might have led. But she was never able to find the answer; and then there was Barry again, buzzing around her with unstoppable sexual energy - and well. Who would she be to say no to that. 


End file.
